Goddess of the Ravens
by Seether Spade
Summary: Loki's head bent down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "I will kill you, slowly, intimately, in the very way I know you fear. I will liberate you from your purpose. I will reunite your family. Is that not what you have always wanted? Do you not miss you dear Dagda, your sweet Briget, your sisters, your mother? I can send you to them." Pre-Thor to Post-Avengers Timeline OFC
1. Prologue

A/N: So this is my first ever fanfiction! I'm rather proud of how this first little glimpse turned out but I am always open to critique and words of advice. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much I did writing it!

Disclaimer: I in no way own any of the places or characters listed here. Marvel and Norse Mythology do. I simply put my thoughts down into words.

* * *

The ground beneath her feet shook, the golden towers behind him crumbled, the world tilled in her dark gaze . Deep red-violet eyes glared at her with the ferocity of a trapped animal, their depths swirling with rage and betrayal. With _hate._ Her stomach clenched painfully as guilt and sorrow overtook her; her own normally guarded eyes now watery. His eyes were wrong; the eyes she had loved to gaze into had long since been replaced. A single word fell from quivering red lips, the sound lingering in the air.

_"Please."_

And then he moved, his spear slicing through the air, his aim at the juncture of her throat. The sound of roaring in the distance broke the silence as he moved, breaking the woman out of her guilt driven haze as her body reacted. Her own staff twisted upwards, the sound of metal against metal between them as she interrupted his strike. A feral growl ripped its way out of the mischief god's slender throat, his dark gaze even more hate filled than before. The woman before him was almost gentle in comparison, his name came softly from her lips; lips he had once found so inviting. It was odd, she would later muse, how many years ago she had been the wild one, the untamed bundle of volatile excitement, and he the stoic one, always calmly collected.

With a grunt of frustration he moved again, dislodging his spear from her staff's hold and dancing away from her. Loki's discolored eyes narrowed as he calculated, trying to recall what her weaknesses had been. He would exploit and use them, make her scream and beg. Once, many years ago, he would have gutted any who dare even think on harming her. Now things had changed greatly; they were no longer the same people they had known. Their lives, their experiences had shaped them, molded them into different souls in very familiar vessels.

_"Why?"_

Her voice once more intruded, her almost black eyes bored into his own, pleading. For what he was not certain. An answer? An end? He sneered at her, she would get neither from him. The eyes lit up with determination, a smirk drew across his face as magic flowed through him. Within a matter of moments half a dozen clones had appeared, surrounding her. The woman, for her part, did not look at all surprised, nor did she try to defend herself as all seven Lokis walked forward: lecherous grins plastered on their faces, all seven sets of eyes the wrong color.

Her own eyes slid closed, the grip on her staff relaxed, and her chest found the slow rhythm of deep breaths. She knew what would come next, knew her options. She could either strike back at him or wait. Kill or be killed. She felt well armored lean arms wrap around her, embracing her tenderly as one would a lover. She willed her eyes to stay shut, yet her body reacted against her wishes, just as if she were a young maiden again. Dark grey eyes searched hopefully for emerald greens, only to be disappointed. The visage was right, but the man behind it had changed. She felt the telltale prick of a knife at her back, the tip pressing through a small gap in her defenses. Loki's head bent down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

_"I will kill you, slowly, intimately, in the very way I know you fear. I will liberate you from your purpose. I will reunite your family. Is that not what you have always wanted? Do you not miss you dear Dagda, your sweet Briget, your sisters, your mother? I can send you to them."_

His voice was barely a whisper, but he knew he had her full attention. These were her weaknesses. _Love. Sentiment._ It was pathetic. She was just like everyone else. His mouth pulled away from the shell of her ear, barely parted lips gently caressing the side of her face as he moved. He pulled away from her only enough to see her face. To see those grey eyes stared straight ahead, seeing nothing. Those red lips parted at the sound of his voice and the feel of his mouth. He smirked once more, internally scoffing at her weakness. With that his lips descended upon hers like that of a falcon on its prey.

She gasped as his tongue invaded her mouth, the grip she had on her staff faltered and it clattered against the ground. Her hands tangled into his dark hair and her eyes slid closed as she kissed him back, taking to him like a man in a desert takes to water. The kiss itself was rough, wild, full of passion, but only fueled with hate, which rivaled passions found in love. Her knees quivered as his teeth sank into her lower lip, pulling it with him as he moved away. It was then the knife at her back found its place, sinking through the gaps in her rib cage and finding purchase in her right lung. Her eyes flew open in pain, meeting his. And for a split second she would have sworn she saw an emerald pain but all too soon is was taken over once more by red wine colors.

He sneered and pulled the hidden knife out of her lung. She coughed as blood began to pool inside of it, suffocating her from the inside. Her hands gripped at her throat as it too began to tighten up. She knew not how much time has passed as she started to collapse, her knees meeting the shimmering floor of the Bifrost. She felt a hand on her shoulder and began to fall backwards. It was then she realized how close he had brought her to the edge as she fell into the vast chasm below.

* * *

_She remembered.  
__She remembered as she fell into the dark abyss.  
__A curse or a blessing she could not comprehend at this moment.  
__Nor the next.  
__She remembered eyes, two pairs of sparkling eyes.  
__One set filled with trickery and mischief.  
__While the other held courage and adventure.  
__In her memory they glistened, accompanied by joyous noise.  
__A loud bellowing laugh of comradery.  
__Then a softer chuckle, one whose undertone carried the promise of lies.  
__Then there was nothing._


	2. The End and The Beginning

A/N: So I got the second chapter written a lot quicker than I ever would have guessed from myself! A big thank you for those of you who reviewed, followed, or gave favorites! It means a great deal to me! And another thank you to those of you that even took the time out of your day to read it!

* * *

The world behind her eyelids was dark, no light filtered its way past the soft tissue of her eyelids. Her body felt weightless, a startling comparison to the dead weight she had been throughout her fall. Though she weighed nothing, her body was in crippling pain, her nerves were ablaze with the feeling; the feeling of being burned alive and frozen simultaneously. Pain was good though, it meant she was still alive, it meant she could still recover, something she had always been good at. It was deadly silent around her, not even the breathing she felt in her chest nor the beating of her heart echoed in the emptiness. She felt disoriented, whether or not that was from the pain and blood loss or from her location she was unsure. Her waist long tendrils of dark hair tickled the nape of her neck, a slight breeze stirring them around her. Her brow narrowed in confusion, she had pulled it back before... before the invasion. It must have been loosened from its place when she fell.

A faint humming reached her ears, a steady sound, constant. It was soft, like the beating of a hummingbird's wing. Yet it was slow like the humming of Midgardian engines. It vibrated throughout her entire being, soothing her inflamed nerves. It reminded her of her mother's healing, something she hadn't felt in such a long time. A voice reached her ears, only just loud enough to hear, a broken whisper barely tugging at her consciousness. Many pairs of intangible hands brushed at her skin, caressing her; the soft feel of spirits sit her upright, lifting her limp body, making a place to sit out of their ghostly bodies.

_"Morrigan, daughter of Danu. Welcome to the Fade dear child."_

The voice had progressively gotten louder, only just loud enough for her to hear, even with her higher senses. It was not one voice however, but a plethora, as though many people were speaking through one mouth, as though many people had reached out for her.

_"You do not fear us, unusual. Given your talents however, we had thought as much."_

Grey eyes opened slowly, peering around through long lashes. She could see nothing but the black emptiness around her, there was neither light nor anyone in sight, but that didn't mean the spirits weren't there. A soft smile pulled at bloodied lips, the dark blue blood of her kind drying on her skin. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice echoing back to her, the sound strong yet elegant, pleasant to the ears. A soft laugh from the many voices answered her, the feeling of several spirits moving tugging at the energy within her.

_"We are the keepers of the Fade, the guardians of the Veil that separates the living from the dead. We are the judges of second chances and the bringers of eternity."_

"But what can I call you?" Morrigan asked, her body moving to stand. There was no ground, nothing solid, but the rules of this plain were different from hers. "This is not the first time I have visited the spirit realm, but it is the first time of such dire circumstances."

_"We know of your past Goddess; you were born to the Tuatha De Danann, the people of the goddess Danu. _

_You are the Phantom Queen of Tir Na Nog; the only survivor of your people after the invasion of the Fomorians. _

_You are the Overseer of War and Death, Guardian of Fire, Earth, and Magicks, the Embodiment of Passion and Love. A shapeshifter, a battle master._

_The Sister and Wife of Dagda, Eldest Sister and Leader of Badb and Nemain, Aunt and Stepmother to Briget, Youngest Sister to Manannan-MaClir and Nuada._

_Sent with the surviving women of Tir Na Nog to Asgard for protection, merely a child under the Allfather's protection._

_The men of your race died fighting while your women hid, praying their men to come back to them._

_You were betrothed to Thor when they learned of the news, finding it beneficial to unite your people, to breed and repopulate._

_Yet in love with Loki did you fall, hiding yourselves away together. Barely out of your adolescent years and quickly out of maidenhood._

_You were cast out, sent to Midgard after a series of events you may not have brought about._

_You hid, becoming German, Russian, British, Japanese, Canadian, Australian, Turkish, Cuban; any nationality that was beneficial to you. You lived many human lives before committing yourself to S.H.I.E.L.D._

_There is so much more to you than there is to us, yet you have one true name while we have many. Call us what you wish."_

The woman stood silently, flinching slightly during parts of their speech. Her grey eyes lowered to what would have been the ground under her feet if there was any. "The spirits know much, as they see all. You say you are the bringers of Eternity and Judges of Second Chances. Seeing as I am not dead yet, you are here to judge me? Yet if you already know what shape my life has taken why are we still here?"

_"You are perceptive in mind. We see everything you do, yes. But we are unable to truly know why, unless you tell us. That is why we have brought you here today, to hear your side of the story, told and spilled from your own mouth."_

Slowly the darkness around her began to fade, a lone figure appearing from the foggy light that had appeared. Its gender was ambiguous, simply clothed in an all covering cloak of white. Slowly a world began to form around them, golden pillars and columns in the place of fog and darkness. A throne appeared beside the goddess, the throne of Asgard. She watched as the finished form came into view, a slight pang in her chest. Asgard had not been this perfect when she had died, fallen. She was no longer sure what of her state of being was now.

_"There is much of your tale to be told Morrigan, where would you like to start?"_

The figure in white approached her, climbing up the stairs that lead to the throne, gliding across the stones like a boat of the ocean. Dark eyes slid closed, a deep breath filling her lungs. "The beginning would be a fitting place to start." She said, slumping into the golden throne behind her. "It would be too difficult to begin otherwise."

_"A wise choice, for when you're at the end of your tale it is the beginning that you hope for most."_


End file.
